Tuesday and Wednesday ended up being dismal days—I was behind in Transfiguration, and nightmares plagued me early hours of the morning, in which my father in his dog form ripped Fred apart.

So, when Thursday morning began with no nightmares, extra crispy crumpets, and a cancelled Herbology lesson because of an infestation with venomous tentacula in the greenhouse—my spirits were high.

While Kat enjoyed catching up with some reading in the free lesson—our friends trapped in Snape's lesson—I headed to the choir practice room to try and have a peaceful play of my violin.

Hogwarts didn't have an orchestra—something I'd always been disappointed with—instead they just had a choir. I was too shy to sing, but the classroom used did have bronze music-stands, a gorgeous grand piano and a beautiful view of the Quidditch field.

"Perfect," I couldn't help smiling as I set up my sheet of music on the music stand. The sunlight was dappling right across the back of my shoulder, drying my damp hair and making me feel at peace.

I decided on Romance in A Major, by Schumann. It was one I had rarely played over the summer. But when I did, it reminded me of Fred, and distracted me from dementors and my father.

Putting my violin under the crook of my neck, I drew my bow and began playing. I was rusty at first—I hadn't played this one since late July—but soon enough muscle memory kicked in, and I didn't need to look at the sheet music.

My fingers ached, and my neck throbbed, but I twirled around as I played. I was lost in the music, the sunlight warming my very core. I was unaware of anything—for all I knew hours were passing, but I was lost in what I loved. Playing the violin warmed my soul.

The beautiful spell of playing was broken by obnoxious clapping. Before I opened my eyes, I knew straight away who it would be.

"Elijah," I scowled. He was lounging over the piano seat, tie askew and glasses half-way down his nose. "You broke my concentration!"

"You're really good." He said, without any hint of sarcasm or spite. "Alecto plays the violin sometimes. It's a great instrument."

"Do you play?" I asked him as I packed away my violin. To my amazement I'd been here for half an hour already. Now it was time to come back to the real world.

"No," Elijah said. "I dabble in the piano, when I can be bothered."

With one hand he played the opening notes to Clair De Lune. While I was a violin girl, I'd always liked the sound of pianos. The Malfoy's had one—and when we were younger Cassie and I would infest the drawing room to play silly songs together.

"When you can be bothered?" I scoffed. "You're such a show off."

He shrugged, looking distracted. "Alecto thinks music is a woman's hobby. A man's place is to be 'strong' and 'bring home the bacon'." He sounded bitter.

"Well I think you're really good." I said firmly. I waited a moment, before I said. "Elijah... On the first day of term, I saw you and that girl Luna chasing after those Ravenclaws."

Elijah's jaw tensed, and he tightened his fist. "Oh yeah, that."

"They were so horrible to you both!" I exclaimed. "I know bullying happens, even here, but... Why were they calling you--?"

"Death boy?" Elijah let out a snort. "They think they're being witty." He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a deep breath. "Alecto, my foster mother, she is... well, she was, a... death eater."

"Oh."

"She was like Cassie's father, pretended she was under the imperius curse." Elijah said in a dead voice, looking straight ahead. "She said adopting me saved her or something..."

Elijah wasn't a touchy-feely person, but still I reached out and put my hand on his leg. "But how—how did they know that? I didn't know that, and I think we've established I'm your closest friend."

"Oh, so we're friends now?" Elijah said, a small smile springing onto his face. But then it wiped away like steam on a window-pane. "Your sister, she found out and decided to spread it around the school."

Suddenly the sunlight in the room was too warm, and I felt a little dizzy. Sasha could be unkind sometimes, but she wasn't cruel. She knew how hard it was being the daughter of Sirius Black, so how could she do that to Elijah?

"It was last year, when you were asleep." Elijah sounded like he was reading from an auto-cue. "It was about... November I think. I noticed her scars in the library and asked if she was okay. She screamed that she didn't want the child of a death eater touching her. A gossipy Gryffindor happened to be in the library and well... It spread around."

"But... Why?" my guilt of being asleep for so long gnawed at me again. "You were trying to help her."

Elijah began picking at his nails. "I caught up with her the week after, she told me that she didn't want help, she wanted her sister back. That she didn't care about people anymore."

Tears came to my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Elijah. I know it must be hard for you, people... they can be so cruel. I'll—I'll get Sasha to apologise, I'm so sorry."

Elijah, to my surprise, placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. "Lyra—don't worry, honestly. I know she was going through shit. I'm bad at a lot of things, but I'm getting better at being a Christian. We teach forgiveness."

"I'm just sorry she hurt you like that." I gently patted his leg like you would with a wounded animal. "I know you liked her before I went asleep."

"She is hot," Elijah said without shame. "But it's cool—I've got a boyfriend now." He got to his feet and looked at his watch. "I'd best go back to Transfiguration—McGonagall will probably think the ghost of the Basilisk killed me in the bathroom."

Pressing the highest note on the piano obnoxiously, he gave a little wave and left me alone in the music room. Smiling to myself, I realised that there was much more to Elijah than met the eye.

**

I spent the rest of the hour trying to perfect Romance Major, but I didn't mind particularly having to stop. It was my first lesson with Remus today, and I couldn't wait to see what he had in store for us.

My mood was as bright as the sun as I headed to the Defence classroom, where all my friends were waiting outside. All our year was being taught Defence at the same time—Remus said he didn't mind having a larger class, and admittedly our year was only forty people.

That was okay with me—for once I had a lesson with all my friends. But I noticed as I approached that they all look tense, Hermione plastering a fake smile on her face when she saw me.

"What is it?" I asked warily. "What's happened?"

They all looked between each other—they must have been strategizing what to say to me—before Harry spoke. "Your father has been sighted. About forty miles away from here—he was scavenging for food in a muggle woman's fridge."

While I knew this news would be broken at some point, I still felt like I was burning and freezing at the same time. "Oh," was all I could manage.

"It doesn't mean he's coming here though," Cassie said, though her voice faltered. "It could be a coincidence."

"Oh yeah, and when do coincidences happen to us lot?" Ron snorted, which was a fair point. "Don't worry, Lyra there's crazy security in the school. He couldn't get in if he tried."

"They said he couldn't get out of Azkaban, but he did..." everything blurred around me, and I wasn't sure if I was spacing out or starting to cry. "I just thought he'd take his time before he came up this way..."

"I mean logically, he'll probably be caught before he gets anywhere close to the school." Hermione pointed out, and Kat gave her a pointed look. "What? The whole country is looking for him. I'm trying to be realistic."

"Yeah, but I don't think Lyra wants to think about dementors coming for her dad..." Kat looked annoyed on my behalf. "Have some tact Hermione, God."

"No, she's right." I said, gripping onto my violin tighter, as if it'd protect me. "They'll get him at some point. It's just a matter of when..."

Somebody had the clever idea of trying the classroom door, which was already unlocked. Remus wasn't in there, and everybody squished in. I sat next to Harry, wishing that I was back in the sun-lit music room, not knowing that my father was so close.

"It'll be fine," Harry reassured me. "He's escaped them for this long."

I was rescued from answering as Remus entered the classroom. He still looked tired, as he always did, but his eyes were brighter. He caught eye contact with me and smiled, which I returned.

"Books and notebooks away, everybody." He said cheerfully. "We're having a practical lesson today—wands only!"

Everybody happily complied as Remus led us out of the classroom. Harry told me all about the last practical lesson they had with Lockhart last year—which involved escaped Cornish pixies. Hopefully it went better today.

Remus led us towards the staff room, chatting to various people about what we'd cover this year and useful spells he'd picked up over the years. Already people seemed to like him, just like I'd expected.

As we went into the staff room, Mum was the only one there. She was reading the Daily Prophet with a frown on her face. My father's face took up most of the front page.

"Oh hello, Professor Lupin," Mum said with a smile, though it didn't meet her eyes. "Is this the practical lesson you were hyping up to me the other day?"

A few people giggled. Mum was also quickly becoming a well-loved teacher, with even Fred and George saying they enjoyed History of Magic now.

"Indeed it is, Professor Rees," Remus replied. "Is it still in the wardrobe?"

"Yes," she nodded, grabbing her cup of tea and getting to her feet. "I fought it myself."

A few people shared worried glances with friends, myself included. What on Earth was Remus giving us to face, on our first lesson?

"Don't worry kids, it's nothing too hard." She winked at me. "Have a good lesson—and remember your homework for my class. I don't forget deadlines."

She left the staff room, leaving all of us and Remus. It was very quiet, until a loud rattling came from the wardrobe Mum mentioned. It jumped and leapt, the feet of the wardrobe bouncing.

"In that wardrobe, is a Boggart." Remus said. "Nothing to worry about, honestly. They like dark enclosed spaces like wardrobes or gaps under your bed... Professor Rees found it yesterday, and the Headmaster gave us permission to use it for some practical work." He smiled around at the class. "Does anybody know what a Boggart is?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand went straight into the air. Remus nodded, and Hermione spoke: "It's a shape-shifter. It transforms into the thing we fear the most."

"Correct—ten points to Gryffindor." Remus said encouragingly. "The Boggart sits there in the dark, confused as it doesn't have a form to take. But once we meet direct contact to it—it looks into our very souls and determines what we're most frightened of."

"Oh no," Ron's face paled. "I don't want to face a spider!"

He spoke louder than he thought, and the class laughed, including Remus. "I wouldn't either, Ron. But what repels a Boggart is laughter. You must think of something to make you laugh, and then say the spell Riddikulas! Repeat after me—Riddikulas!"

We practiced the wand movements and pronunciation for a bit, and then Remus called Neville Longbottom up to help him. This made sense. Remus wanted people to feel better about themselves, and Neville didn't have much self-confidence.

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who looked like he was walking to his death.

"Right, Neville," said Remus. "What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise left.

"What was that sorry?" Remus asked, smiling kindly.

Neville looked around, scared before whispering so quietly I could barely hear him say: "Professor Snape."

Almost everybody laughed, and Neville gave an awkward smile. I turned to Cassie to say how horrible Snape was to have made Neville deathly afraid of him, but she had turned ghostly white. She was mumbling under her breath, but I could hear what she was saying.

When I touched her arm, she jumped. "Are you okay?" I whispered.

She nodded, brushing me off. She began twisting her hands, and I watched her, concerned. I was so distracted that I only barely caught Boggart Snape appearing out of the wardrobe.

"Riddikulas!" Neville cried, and with a snap—Snape was wearing a dress and a huge hat with a stuffed eagle on the top.

I barely supressed a laugh—it was obvious they were Neville's Grandmother's clothes. Everybody was laughing, even the corners of Kat's mouth turned up—all except Cassie. Now I was worried.

"Right everybody, form a line!" Remus clapped his hands together. "Now, I'd like you to picture what you're most afraid of while you wait, and something amusing to stop it in its tracks!"

We all squished into a queue, I ended up sandwiched in between Kat and Cassie. As the line sluggishly moved forward, Boggarts turning into darkness and clowns and snakes, I tried to think what I was afraid of.

I afraid my powers failing when I needed them. I afraid of heights, of snakes, of bugs crawling up me... But when I thought about it, what really made me terrified was dementors. The icy feeling consuming me, the rattling breath as it tried to suck out my soul...

Then I thought of a dementor doing that to my father until he died, and I swayed on the spot, paralyzed with fear. Great—but how could I make that amusing?

The line began to die down, and Ron was next. As expected, a giant spider leapt from the wardrobe. Ron let out a very high-pitched squeal but cried: "Riddikulas!"

The spider was now wearing roller skates, slipping and sliding on the wooden floor like Bambi on ice. Ron laughed, triumphant, and Katherine stood forward, wand raised.

Out of the wardrobe crept a figure cloaked in black, clutching a small bundle. The class began muttering, confused. What was Katherine most afraid of? Then, we all watched as the cloaked figure lifted a hand that emitted dark smoke.

When it touched the bundle, it disintegrated.

Katherine's shoulders were set, tense, but still she shouted: "Riddikulas!"

The figure turned into a balloon, which then popped, and Katherine let out one small, harsh laugh. I gave her a sympathetic look as she passed me—she was afraid of her powers hurting somebody innocent.

"Lyra—you're up!" Remus sounded cheerful, but he looked wary. He could probably imagine exactly what was going to face me.

Stepping forward, I took a deep breath. My hands were starting to shake, but I refused to have a panic attack in front of the class. The boggart snapped, and changed from a balloon into—

My father curled up on the floor in Azkaban robes. He was as thin and as hopeless as I remembered him looking. Then, a dementor leered over him. I felt just as cold and clammy as I did on the train—remembering the rattling breath Pay for your crimes, Black and the weakness in my powers.

"No—" my boggart father cried. "Please—I'm innocent!"

Squeezing my eyes shut, terrified to look again, I cried: "Riddikulas!"

With a pop the dementor and my father turned into two very fuzzy, very cute kittens. Smiling, proud at myself, and relieved it was over, I joined Kat and the other students at the other side of the room. Many of them were looking at me funny, but I ignored them.

"You did good," Kat nodded. A thin layer of sweat coated her face, and she looked like she'd ran a marathon.

I reached for her hand. "You did too. I hope Cassie's okay."

Cassie was next up, and she'd turned a faint shade of green. The two kittens morphed into one shape. A man, who's features were blurry—except for his eyes. They were a cruel ice blue. His smile was both inviting an unnerving.

"You'll keep your mouth shut, won't you?" he said with that horrible smile.

Cassie took one look at the man and dropped her wand on the floor. As red sparks bounced from it at the ceiling, Cassie stumbled out of the room—tears already falling from her face as she pushed past Harry and Hermione, who were behind her.

The whole class began muttering, and Kat and I exchanged a worried look. I stuck my hand up straight in the air. "Professor Lupin? May we go after Cassie?"

Remus looked very concerned as he picked up Cassie's wand from the floor. "Yes, yes of course Lyra. I think Katherine should go with you as well—she seems upset."

And with that the two of us hurried out of the staff room, looking blindly left and right for our friend. "Shit—I've never seen her that upset." Kat looked worried. "Do you know what that's about?"

My stomach twisted into knots. "No—but I have a bad feeling about it. Where do you think she'd go?"

Katherine hopped from one foot to another, before declaring: "Our dorm—she always feels safe there."

We practically sprinted down the hundreds of steps to the common room, getting a stitch but not caring. My hands were shaking as I tapped the barrels—I couldn't stop thinking about Cassie's tearful face.

Only a few sixth and seventh years were in the common room. They looked up when they saw us but didn't look too bothered.

Our door was ajar when we reached the dorms, and Kat bravely pushed the door open. Cassie was curled up on Kat's bed in a tight ball, silent tears streaking down her face.

"Hey," I said softly, shutting the door behind me. "We thought you'd be here."

"Don't miss out on education because of me," Cassie's voice was hoarse as we sat either side of her. "I'm not worth it."

"You are." Kat's voice was sharper than a sword. She sat on one side of Cassie, and I sat on the other. "We were worried about you, you dummy."

Cassie un-curled herself and sat up. Her big grey eyes were very far away. "I didn't think I was afraid of him anymore." She seemed to be talking to herself more than us. "I thought I was over it."

I wasn't sure what to say, so instead Kat spoke. "Who was he Cass? Why are you afraid of him?"

She didn't look at either of us as she spoke.

"He's the reason I stopped talking."

A chill went up my spine, like it did in the presence of a dementor. Instinctively I moved closer to Cassie, as if I could protect her from whatever this man had done to her.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to." Kat said quietly. She looked like she wanted to reach out for Cassie but restrained herself.

"I do." Cassie said sharply. She lent forward, two blonde curtains covering her face. "Finding my voice again has been leading to this. Telling my story to the people who actually matter."

"What did happen?" I almost didn't want to know, after years of wondering.

Cassie kept leaning forward, as if preparing to vomit. Instead she said in an emotionless tone: "When I tell my story, you can't interrupt otherwise I won't be able to continue. I've never—never spoken about this to anybody. Ever."

Kat and I gave our nods as silent vows of agreement, and Cassie cleared her throat, ready to begin.

**

When I was about five, my father got back in touch with his old death eater buddies. They'd integrated into society so well that nobody would find it suspicious anymore them all meeting up.

So, my father would host them every Wednesday and they'd discuss old times and curse muggles and Harry Potter over whisky as they belittled the house elves. Sometimes Draco and I would sneak into the drawing room to listen.

They never spotted us, except for one man with ice blue eyes. I can barely remember his face, all I remember are those eyes... But anyway, Father called him Avery, and he was very kind to me and my brother. My father respected him for this, so Avery was invited to dinner a few times a week.

He doted on me: he would give me sweets and ribbons to tie in my plaits. Sometimes he would even play chess with me if Draco was bored and my Father busy. He always called me his special girl. That's what I felt.

Special.

Then one day I was playing with my dolls in the drawing room. Father had a meeting at the Ministry, while Mother and the house-elves cared for Draco who'd come down with flu. Avery appeared with a smile on his face—pretending that he was returning a book to Father.

He told me how special I was, and how much he liked me—and didn't I want to be a big girl and play a game with him? I told him no, I liked my dollies, but he persisted.

He bound me with magic, and he, well... he attacked me. Every time I tried to scream for my family, he hurt me more. He wanted to play the game, even if I didn't. But that's how these things go, isn't it?

Once it was over, I laid there bleeding and wishing I would die. As I tried to crawl away, he grabbed me by the arm. He started to recite the Unbreakable Vow.

"If you speak a word of this to anybody—you will die. You don't want to die, do you Cassiopeia?" he hissed. "You'll keep your mouth shut, won't you?"

But as he said this, the drawing room burst open. Dobby—God bless his soul—had heard a struggle and called for my Father. He found us, and immediately connected the dots.

He tortured Avery with Cruciatus before he could even attempt to defend himself. Even though that's the only time I've seen that spell used, I knew, I just knew—that my Father wanted him to feel what I felt, to make him wish for death like I did.

It was then that my Mother heard the screams and burst in, Draco trailing behind her like little kids do. She held me to her chest and sobbed, telling my Father to kill Avery, to just do it.

My Father did, as you've probably guessed. But before he did, he asked Avery: "Was she the first child you hurt?"

Avery just smiled, so my Father killed him.

He transfigured Avery's body into a bone, but not before he allowed my Mother to spit on his body. As my Mother bathed the blood, burns and cuts off me, my brother watched with a fire burning in his eyes. It's why he's so protective of me.

My Father meanwhile pretended one of the house elves stole his wand to torture and kill spiders—the Ministry believed him without question. Who would believe a house-elf over Lucius Malfoy?

I've always had nightmares. And I've always been afraid. But I learned to bury it. My parents tried to make me feel normal by hiring your Mother as a tutor, Lyra and giving me you for company.

I'd always told myself I'd speak when it was safe. And you going into that coma, Lyra—it scared me into talking. I didn't realise how much I'd missed having a voice. I thought I wasn't afraid anymore.

But then the dementors brought back my worst memories. Even though my brother gave me a strong sleeping potion he stole from Snape that night, I still pretended I wasn't afraid. Then I saw the Boggart.

He still has control over me, even now.

**

Cassie stopped speaking and laid backwards on the bed, looking exhausted. Kat had a haunted expression on her face, and I feared that I looked the same. I couldn't believe that after all this time, my best friend had been through so much and still had a smile on her face most days.

"I'm so weak," Cassie's voice sounded like it did when she started speaking again. "It's been eight years and all I can see are his hands around my throat."

In my mind an image came to mind. Cassie, Draco and I swimming in the Malfoy's pool when we were little—maybe six. I remembered pink scratches on her neck and blisters on the top of her legs. I guess I ignored them when I was that small.

"You're not weak." Kat's voice was shaking. Cassie looked up, and for the first time I noticed faded lines on her neck. "You're the strongest person I know. I mope about possibly hurting somebody, and you—you went through—"

"We all have our own shit." Cassie rolled onto her side. "I do feel a little better telling you. A bit lighter."

"That's something," I was still a little lost for words. "We'll stay here as long as you need."

"But we have Transfiguration... McGonagall will kill you. Don't fall behind because of my pathetic back story." Cassie covered her face with her arm.

"Don't be stupid, we're staying with you." Kat laid down next to Cassie. "We're here for you."

"Always," I added, lying down on Cassie's other side.

I could almost feel the weight of her story lifting off her shoulders as she exhaled. Tears glistened on her eyes, and she held out her hands towards us. I took one, and Kat took the other.

"Thank you."

------------------

A/N Sorry this took a while, I was away for the last few days without internet. 

The reason I chose such a dark reason for Cassie not speaking, is because I feel it's important to raise awareness for issues not discussed openly. I know this is only a fan-fiction, but I feel even in a world of magic there would be issues that parallel our own world: like sexual abuse in Cassie's case, and sexuality in Kat's (and to a lesser extent) Elijah's.

I hope you are satisfied with the way I portrayed this. I'm going to start writing the next chapter, which will be much lighter in comparison to this--and Sirius is going to enter the castle!